Mother Charity

Photo by John Palmer Gregg

Charity, great love,
is the love of my mother.
Agape. Selfless.

Worlds forever change.
Situations are as tides.
My mother is constant.

Eros, romantic,
is a love of many lusts.
Temporal pleasures. Venus.

Storge, natural,
widely diffused, emotive,
finds dependency.

Philios, the chosen
love, the least gregarious,
fluctuates with pride.

Eros, storge, philios—
good but not self-sufficient—
seek a foundation.

The politician
persuades us with certain truths.
He is but white noise.

The billionaire provides
sacrifices for the poor,
yet he lacks charity.
He gives for himself.

My mother is charity.
She never wavers or drifts
away from paths clear to her.
All the other kinds of loves
I have found are dim.

New contributor Ethan McGuire: By day, Ethan is a healthcare information technology professional. By night, he is a writer, whose writing has been published by The Legend, The Dark Sire Literary Magazine, Better Than Starbucks Poetry Magazine, Vita Brevis Press, and others. You may also find his writing at Ethan currently lives in the Florida Panhandle with his lovely wife, needy dog, and fussy cat.

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